


Harvest Moon

by SpaceImpact



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dream's POV, Drunken Kissing, Flirting, George's POV, Idiots in Love, Internal Conflict, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Moonlight, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Poignant, Secret Crush, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Unrequited Lust, Yearning, harvest moon - lord huron, shamelessly inspired by heat waves, there's a fine line between platonic and romantic love and boy are they walking it, they love each other but won't admit it, you ever hear a song so beautiful you gotta write about it?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:47:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28006431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceImpact/pseuds/SpaceImpact
Summary: Dream and George dig deep into the nuances of their relationship. The tension is palpable. Are they just friends, or could they be lovers? Both of them search for answers and learn that there's no escaping their true feelings—no matter how deeply they've buried them.“Do you remember that time, a few months ago, when we kissed?”Dream’s gaze turns steely. He could feel the hairs on his arms prick upwards, a stir of defensiveness urging him into motion.“You were drunk,” he muttered plainly, shifting his weight backwards onto his palms. They were sitting atop a grassy knoll, an expansive night sky splayed above them. The stars twinkled knowingly, and the moon seemed to stare down at them with attentiveness.“So were you,” George countered, and he bit back a sigh. They sat in uncomfortable silence, until George spoke again, “I remember that night.”
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 69





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tbhyourelame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tbhyourelame/gifts).



> This is my first time publishing anything online! Hope you enjoy! Greatly inspired by the song "Harvest Moon" by Lord Huron; 
> 
> _When we were strangers, I watched you from afar / When we were lovers, I loved you with all my heart / But now it's gettin' late / And the moon is climbin' high / I want to celebrate / See it shinin' in your eye / Because I'm still in love with you / I want to see you dance again / Because I'm still in love with you / On this harvest moon_  
> 

“Do you remember that time, a few months ago, when we kissed?”  
Dream’s gaze turns steely. He could feel the hairs on his arms prick upwards, a stir of defensiveness urging him into motion.  
“You were drunk,” he muttered plainly, shifting his weight backwards onto his palms. They were sitting atop a grassy knoll, an expansive night sky splayed above them. The stars twinkled knowingly, and the moon seemed to stare down at them with attentiveness.  
“So were you,” George countered, and he bit back a sigh. They sat in uncomfortable silence, until George spoke again, “I remember that night.” His eyes remained locked on Dream’s face, studying his expression as if he could tug the thoughts from his mind willfully through his mouth. What he wouldn’t give to pry those lips apart and read deeply; to crawl inwards and make a home for himself amidst all of the bubbling hesitancy. Instead, he waits, fingers gnawing at the grass below him with rotten impatience.  
“What do you want me to say?” Dream finally bites, looking downwards, avoiding. He offers a cheap scoff; a mix between nerved laughter and incredulity. “What, that I enjoyed it?” He continues, shaking his head and barking out another note of jaded tittering.  
“Did you?” George asks, purposeful brown eyes unyielding. He presses on, unsure of how much more he can withstand and yet unable to stop, “Did you enjoy it, Dream?”  
“Enough,” Dream snaps, and it’s clear he’s met the end of his forbearance. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore, George, okay? That was so long ago, it meant nothing.” His voice is clear, and loud—but there’s something fractured in his tone, like a faulty line of code that might go unnoticed under the scrutiny of an inexperienced programmer. George picks it up in an instant, and clings to the tinny sound as if it were a lifeline.  
“Did it really mean nothing to you?” George’s voice reeks of accusation, uncharacteristically bold but predictably stubborn. He’s done with gentle musings and playful courting. In this moment, George is nothing short of demanding, and Dream feels the shift in energy like a mighty weight that’s been pressed against his ribs, dragging his heart down towards his stomach.  
“Do you want me to be honest, George?” Dream asks, sounding tired. He, too, no longer finds interest in inhibition.  
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the way it feels to kiss you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This is just a short drabble, but I might turn it into a longer story if enough people are interested. Feel free to leave a comment, I'd love to hear your thoughts/opinions/criticisms/general chatter! In all honesty, I wrote this fic at 5 AM one night so I don't expect many people to read it. But if you did, I appreciate you!


	2. 1. It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream and George discuss their plans for Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for all of the kind feedback on Prelude. In this chapter, I'm fleshing out the plot to make way for more intense, angst-riddled moments as well as tender and intimate moments, too. I have lots of plans for this storyline leading up to the events in the first installment, so I hope you'll stick around to watch them unfold. Thank you for reading!

It’d been a while since Dream and George had an actual conversation. Three days, to be exact, although for Dream, it felt like an eternity. If there was any one guarantee that’d sprung from their relationship, it was that George was always there when Dream beckoned, like a sleeper agent awaiting his master’s call to action.  
The grip on his mouse loosens, palms turning clammy as he listens to the soft pinging of Discord reverberating through his headphones, waiting for George to pick up.  
“Hello?” A soft, British voice greets him warmly, and Dream’s ears pique upwards, adjusting himself in his chair as he leans into the mic.  
“Hey, George.” He pauses to clear his throat, mustering the courage necessary to deliver his next line, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”  
“Uh-oh,” George interrupts, though his tone was lackadaisical at best. “I’m not in trouble, am I?” He teases, and Dream instantly pictures him licking his lips; at this point, every little quirk of George’s was near catalogued and memorized. He was all-too familiar with his friend’s mannerisms, though it wasn’t a conscious effort. He’d probably seen George’s face more than anyone else had, whether it be through watching his streams or those late-night video calls he cherished so fervently. He knew George best, and prided himself in that fact.  
“No, you’re not in trouble.” Dream’s mellow laughter leapt through his microphone, crossing oceans and atmospheres only to careen gently into George’s headset. George felt a sigh of relief rise and fall with his chest, releasing the hoodie strings he’d wound tightly around his fingers in anticipation. “I just haven’t talked to you in a while. I mean, I know I’ve been busy, but—" _I miss you._ Dream lets the words fall flat on his lips. George hears them anyways. It seems he knew Dream best, too. “What’ve you been doing?” 

The question lingered between them for a while, and George couldn’t decipher whether or not there was more than simply amicable concern behind Dream’s inquiry. Regardless, he didn’t have the time to contemplate; his friend was awaiting a response, after all.

“Uh.. I dunno, I’ve just been editing my new video and stuff. Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?” Despite his best efforts, a note of disquiet creeped into George's voice, though he attempted to play it off as nonchalance. Even in knowing Dream as deeply as he did, there was always an air of mystery and natural mercurialness that accompanied their conversations. Admittedly, George reveled in being kept on his toes, but the uncertainty of their relationship was a theme that seemed to tug him back and forth at whim, leaving him without a leg to stand on more often than not.

“Um, no, actually,” Dream replied, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth before speaking again, “What’re you doing for Christmas, George?”

This time, it was George who offered laughter, and the sound was enough to make Dream crack a smile. “Christmas? Dream, it’s November.” He laughed again, clearly taken aback by the absurdity of the other’s question. 

“Yeah, I know,” Dream answered, though he afforded no further explanation.

“Well, I’ll probably just spend time with family or something. Why, what’s happening on Christmas?” There it was again; Dream visualized George gnawing at his bottom lip, the gears in his head shifting near audibly. A sly smirk stretched its way onto Dream’s expression; the effect he had on George was tantalizing. He considered toying with him a bit more, but decided against it, his own unbridled excitement overriding the desire to make George squirm (though it was most definitely an impassioned desire).

“I was thinking maybe we could meet up. Me, you, and Sapnap.” Dream tried to make the overture seem as casual as humanly possible, but his own heartbeat betrays him, pounding against his ribs like a caged animal desperate for release from its stifling confines. He leans backwards in his seat, irrationally fearful that the sound would reach George, somehow.

George was left stunned, and a bout of silence befell them louder than any utterance either of them could manage. Had he heard Dream correctly? He wanted to meet up with him (and Sapnap, though that part was unsurprising), on Christmas? Quickly, he reached over to his other hand, giving the appendage a sharp nip with his fingers.  
“Ow! Sorry, I just pinched myself,” George exclaimed through the wide-spread, stupidly big grin now sprawled across his features. 

“You’re such an idiot,” Dream chuckled, cheeks flushing a lurid shade of peachiness in direct response to George’s theatrical reaction. He really was so damn _cute_.

“Wait, so.. You actually want to meet up? Like, in person?” Any attempt to contain his giddiness was futile, as George sounded nothing short of ecstatic. He sat up in his chair, awarding Dream his complete and unrivaled attention.

Dream closed his eyes, imagining his friend’s countenance overtaken with glee, and felt his own expression contort into one of sheer satisfaction. Oh, how Dream wished he could actually see the other's face light up at his proposal. “Yeah, George. In person. I’ll pay for the flights and stuff, I just..” He falters, grasping for a calculated wording, one that wouldn’t quite divulge the deepest part of himself; the yearning and aching he’d brandished surreptitiously for years. He settled with, “I just really want to see you. Both of you. I think it’s time.” Before George could be provided a moment to ponder this sentiment, he continued, “I mean, we’ve hit so many milestones this year. We’ve grown so much in such a short amount of time, all of us have. It makes sense that we should get together and celebrate.” A quiet, but discernible exhale was heard from Dream’s end. The hard part was over, now. The behemoth had been put to rest.

“Yeah,” George replied, but his mind was elsewhere. He reflected upon his time spent with Dream, growing closer to him, forming an attachment. Their bond was special to him in a way that no other could compete with; though he wouldn’t dare admit it, he cared for Dream so much that it _hurt_. They’d been friends for years, and yet George was just as informed as any of their millions of fans about what Dream looked like. Sure, it wasn’t _that_ important; they’d carried on a friendship in spite of such an omission just fine, but... To say that he was curious would be a colossal understatement. He decides to direct his concentration elsewhere; he's sure he'll have plenty of time for rumination once he's alone, but for now, “What about Sapnap? Have you spoken to him about this?”

“I have. He’s cool with it. He sounded even more excited than you, actually.” Dream’s playful jest was lost on George, as he felt his elation dissolve into somberness. Of course he would be the last to be let in on such an immense plan. Still, the prospect of finally meeting his best friends is enough to persuade him into contentment, and so he smiles, drumming his fingertips along his desk absentmindedly.

“Okay, Dream. Let’s do it. Let’s meet up for Christmas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! Thank you so much for reading. I apologize if this chapter was a bit boring; consider it filler as I work on building a more cohesive plot structure. Next chapter will definitely be more rewarding, I assure you (I have so much planned!). But for now, please enjoy! As always, thoughts/opinions/criticisms in the form of comments are greatly appreciated. Happy Holidays! :^)


End file.
